Muse and the lyrics
by Just Remember Life Goes On
Summary: Everyday struggling musician Edward would pass homeless girl Bella as she lay on the street, she gave him inspiration, but as his fame rises, will she still be there when he returns? Or would his fame end lonely Bella Swan?


**I had an idea for a new fan fiction, and it is based on Ed Sheeran's "the A team". Here is a preview of what it would be like so it is a little short but I want to know what you guys think and whether I should continue. P.s check out my other story "broken angel" and tell me if you like my writing style or where to go with that.**

**Chapter one: Just my average day**

**EPOV**

I once again woke to the sound of dripping water as it leaked down the corner of the room, weakening the glue which was gripping desperately to the brown stained wallpaper. I groaned along with my springy metal bed as I sat up. I raised my hand to wipe my face in an attempt to wake myself up by rubbing my eyes. Once I thought I was pretty much awake I wiped my hand down my face, prickling my hand on my stubble. I personally hate my stubble, but there is no way I can waste money on a razor, I'm struggling to get food as it is.

I swivelled around on my bed and lowered my feet to the floor, which was cold on contact with my feet. I looked straight ahead at the small glimmer of sun coming through the thin, cheap curtains. I pushed down on my mattress as I struggled to get up; my back were protesting after yet another nights dreadful sleep on that bed, although you would think after 3 years my back would be used to it. I glanced down at my watch- the most expensive thing I own. It was my grandfathers; he left it in his will for me. It is pure gold and has never missed a tick in its life, even when his grandfather passed it down to him. God bless their souls.

I think they will reading was one of the last times I saw my parents, brothers and family for that matter. They own the Cullen-Cullen lawyer firm, the most prestigious firm in the country which deals with all the top end law cases and have a 95% achievement rate. It has been in the family for a century and is the pride and joy of my father- even over family. Carlisle my father was trying to make me and my two brothers, jasper and Emmett, join the family, Emmett being the oldest went to Yale first, followed by jasper but I didn't want to join the family business. I didn't want to be stuck in an office all day or defend people who have actually done wrong. I found music was my calling. Ever since I was little I have memories of playing either the guitar or piano to my mum Esme as she would smile and applaud me. She told me that I should follow my dreams no matter what anyone says. So I did. When my dad told me it was my turn to go Yale with my brothers I said no, I want to be a musician. Yet my dad laughed at me and said why would I want to be a stupid musician? After a long argument and much crying on my mother's side my dad said either go into the family business or leave the family. So I did. That night three years ago I took the 10 thousand cash I had with me, my guitar and clothes and other family mementos which I could fit into my holdall and left. Since I have been sleeping in a rundown apartment in the backstreets of New York, barely paying the rent or eating. The only stable thing I have is my music, just. I have two jobs, both which are in bars playing music, one day, one evening, yet both have crappy pay.

Soon I broke out of my trail of thought and went back into my real world. I quickly shoved on some clothes, just jeans, a tight fitting grey t-shirt and my black man's military coat, along with some black shoes. Classy. Yeah right. I went over my creaking floorboards to the kitchen to grab an apple. A tad mouldy, but still edible. I quickly yanked my guitar, wallet- not that it had much money in it- and keys from the worktop and set on out the door where I was met with the harsh New York November air. I took my casual, daily morning walk out of the back roads to the main road. I walked at a slow pace as I watched people hurry by, most likely to work, half on phones. I also took in the yellow taxis and honking horns as I walked down the street.

New York, the big apple, a land of inspiration. For me yes, for my job I write the songs I play, in this city I seem to find inspiration everywhere. When I first moved here I wrote a song about the hustle and bustle of the streets in the mornings, it even became my audition songs for my jobs.

Like I do every day I looked out for the homeless girl I always see on the street. She always is, just tucked into a small alleyway between two tall buildings. As I walked I saw her and a smile adorned her face. She is such a pretty girl, and I have always wondered why she is homeless and on the streets. She has wavy dark brown hair, eyes with seem to shine whenever I look into them. White, pale skin, red ruby lips and a rosy blush she seems to claim every time I walk by. Yet not many take the time to notice these things. They usually notice how her soft skin clings viciously to her bony, under fed face. Her greasy hair or the fact she is out on the street and always shivering in her dark blue sleeping bag, which has endless rips and tears. I bent down to her level on the ground as she stared wide-eyed at me with a smile playing on the corners of her lips. As I do every day I took out my wallet and placed a 5 dollar note into the black cap by her feet which has always had the sign "please give". Although as always I knew I would have to quickly get to work. So I smiled and gave a small wave, before putting my wallet in my pocket and getting back up. As I got up she whispered a small "thank you" with her bell-like voice as she gave me a thankful smile. I gave her a thankful smile in returned and carried on my way to work thinking about the little homeless girl I just left. I don't have much money, and I could really do with that 5 dollars but I somehow knew she needed that money more than me. It's not much but at least she then could eat a little.

Soon I was entering the doors of the bar I was working at, well I say bar, but is more like a pub but minus the food, it just has that welcoming feel to it. As I entered I was greeted by Angela, one of the bar tenders "come on Edward, your almost late again!" she sighed as she shoved me towards my stool where I always play my guitar from.

"I know Angie" I chuckled, "but I haven't got chucked out yet" I said with a smirk. With a smile she muttered something like "it's a good job he is a half decent musician" as she went to get me a bottle of water in case I got thirsty during my shift. Once she got back I re-tuned my guitar and started my morning shift. My shifts basically consisted of playing tunes on my guitar, singing a few of my songs, or at least songs I could remember the lyrics to, and making sure there were no quiet moments. To be honest even though it killed my fingers I loved it here. Everyone is always laughing and I get treated like a friend by everyone, I even get pretty good tips. But sadly this job doesn't have brilliant pay so I have to have two.

Soon it was my lunch break where Angela gave me a sandwich, saying that I need to gain a little weight "skinny-butt-buy". Then I started asking how she was doing and said Joey, her youngest had just lost his first tooth and how her eldest Janie had come home completely drunk last weekend so Eric, her husband had to ground her. Even though it could be boring, l loved to hear about family life as it reminded it of mine before I left. Although soon enough my afternoon shift had finished and it was time for me to go to my evening shift at a different bar. Not that I hated it, I just didn't like the atmosphere there. It was one of those expensive places where people pay ridiculous amounts of money for tiny portions of "posh" food while they chugged down red wine. As I left Angela gave me a packed lunch which I scoffed down on my way to my second job. After a quick 5 minute walk I went through the back entrance of the restaurant and to the locker room where chefs and waitresses keep spare clothes and changed into the black suit I always leave there. As soon as I did that I went over to the piano only to be stopped be Tanya, go I hate that woman! She was an annoying blonde waitress who could make the most innocent of clothes look sluttish.

"Hello Eddie" she purred? Attempting to act "sexy". "Hi Tanya" I replied, trying desperately to get past her. "So..." before she could continue I shoved past her as I looked at the time and saw I was 5 minutes late. I heard a small "humph" come from her but I ignored it with a smile as I took my place on the piano. As I played annoying classical tunes, with a few of my own thrown in there, the evening dragged on slowly. But before I knew it, it was 11 o'clock and the last few people had left so I made my way to the locker room to get changed. As I was about to put my coat on I was twirled around by the hand of my boss, Laurent.

"Good work out there tonight" he said, patting his hand on my back "thanks?" I replied, confusion evident in my voice. "You're a good kid Edward, I like you but you need some fresh stuff out there, a new song maybe? I know you also play guitar, so what do you say kid? A new song for Monday? Three days? Yes? I thought so kid" wait what? "But...". "No buts Edward, loads of people would kill for this job so new song, three days, night kid" he said before leaving me with what I'm sure must have been a dazed look on my face.

As I walked home through the dark streets of New York I started to think, three says for a new song? How can I do that! I need to write the music, lyrics, and hell normally this could take weeks. Also where am I supposed to get a muse from? As I debated this I almost walked past my little homeless girl. But when I saw her I frowned, her blanket had slipped off and she was desperately shivering. But like always I silently pulled it up around her securely and as I went to walk away I noticed a small smile play on her lips. Feeling silently pleased I walked away to my apartment where I kicked off my shoes and coat, before deciding I couldn't be bothered to have a shower now, so undressed down to my boxers and snuggled down into bed dreaming of my little homeless girl.

**An **

**N'awwww, should I continue? Tell me please, the rest will be longer but this is a trial taster. **


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